


Eat you alive

by ClaireMorgan



Series: Open Again [2]
Category: Suspiria (1977), Suspiria (2019)
Genre: Canon Lesbian Relationship, F/F, Lesbian Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 15:14:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17490305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaireMorgan/pseuds/ClaireMorgan
Summary: What if Susie and Madame Blanc met each other a long time ago?





	Eat you alive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kimmycakes97](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimmycakes97/gifts).



The rain poured like some cold, endless waterfalls on the tall buildings of the city; I was sitting on the floor, watching it split into small streams in the window. Backstage, on the other side of the black curtain, there was dim light, muffled noise, an atmosphere of tranquility; I needed it, as much as the cigarette resting between my lips. 

“Would this be my last show?”, I thought. No, it would not. Volk was my life, I would hold onto it a little more, before letting it go, partially, to the younger, to the more beautiful. Fresh blood, new flesh; I was indeed getting old, no one escapes time. Even me, even us. 

\- Are you ready?

It was Miss Tanner, standing a few steps away. Her voice was shaking a little; she was nervous, but less for the show than for disturbing me in a moment of reflexion. 

\- All the girls are.  
\- I’m coming. 

I stood up. I felt like all energy had left my body, like I would not be able to perform the danse. It was as a force from the outside was taking control of me, and in my weariness I was letting it get inside. It made me move to the side of the scene, then join the other dancers, position myself in the middle, start to move. 

The music was loud, but I was only hearing it vaguely, like it came from a distance. My eyes were wandering through the crowd, but I did not see; they were turned inwards, staring into the depths of my soul as I danced with all I had; it had been a long time since I danced like that. 

All of a sudden I felt a rush; it was like the ultimate emotion, an intense mixture of anger, sorrow, pain, love, lust, a lost of control but also a newfound awareness, a grief and a discovery, a physical need and a spiritual fulfillment. It was like nails scratching my skin, like fingers playing in my head; it was a blessing and a curse, unknown but terribly familiar, bittersweet but oh so delicious. 

I opened my eyes when the dance was over, realising they had been closed ever since that feeling had took me over. It was like the crowd was gone; there was only one girl, with long, messy red hair, pale skin, a thin, fragile looking body, blue eyes staring straight in mine, lips apart. It was as she was glowing, and floating a few inches above the floor. I felt like she was seeing me for who I was, for what I was. She was seeing through and in me like nobody ever did, through my clothes, beyond my skin, and it was as if my body could feel her presence inside; as if my organs were boiling, pressing to get out and join her in a last exquisite dance. It was like she knew every thought that crossed my mind, and that before those even occurred to me she had already looked upon them, analysed them, classified each of them in her own mind. 

The silence resorbed and I heard the loud applause, I saw the room was full of people, ordinary people; some were smiling, others seemed disturbed, or just indifferent. She was still there, but now she looked like she was one of those other people; just another young girl dreaming of being famous, of dancing like that. Maybe. She kept staring. I did not look away either, until I had to, when we left the stage. 

Then I was sitting in that small dressing room; a simple square with a row of mirrors and a counter circling it, depressing in it’s dull simplicity and crude lighting. I had removed the costume and heavy makeup, put on a dark blue dress; long, covering my feet and spreading on the ground behind me, large sleeves, black leather laces tying it up on the front, exposing just enough skin. I circled my neck with my hand; thought of tightening my grip, see what it felt like, but did not. Someone knocked on the door; it was Miss Vendegast, I knew it before she spoke in her own funny voice. 

\- There’s a girl, asking to see you. She says you don’t know her but…  
\- Take her here. 

I waited, and heard Miss Vendegast’s footsteps going up the hallway, giving my message, then two sets of feet going down the hallway, another soft knock on my door. 

\- Come in. 

The door was now opened, the girl pushed in, then it was closed again and we were alone; it felt like we were the two only people left in the world. She just stayed there, silent, and still. 

\- What do you want?

My question was aggressive and intrusive in its form, but my tone was gentle, maternal almost. When I spoke those words she came to life, suddenly. She was nervously playing with her hands, pulling on her fingers, scraping her nails. I thought on those hands on me, in me, doing the same thing to my skin; scratching it, until it bled if that was her wish; I was at her total mercy, but did not want her to know it. Yet. 

She trembled, almost imperceptibly, as if she could feel me thinking. I stared at her through the mirror, but she avoided my eyes. 

\- I’m Susie. Susie Bannion, I’m from Ohio. I’m 22.  
\- I did not ask you who you were, but what you want. 

She froze for a second, and looked up for the first time. I shivered as that mysterious sensation hit me again; though this time it was like the shadow of it brushed my skin without getting in. It was less strong, but equally intoxicating; if not more, making me crave for another dose, something comparable to that first time. Was the girl ordinary after all?

\- I…I wanted to see you. I mean… I needed to see you. I’ve watched Volk at least fifty times. You know, in the documentary. We have it at the library, close to where I live. But I wanted to see it in person… you know.

She kept looking at me. She seemed like she still had things to say, so I let her say it. 

\- I’d like to dance like that one day. Actually… I know I can dance like that one day.  
\- That’s very bold of you. But it still doesn't explain why you came here. To see me, I mean. 

I grabbed a cigarette out of the many packets left on the counter. In a second a flame was already dangling in front of my eyes; she had reached for her lighter before I could do the same.

\- Here, let me. 

I saw her eyes twirling shyly around my lips while I looked away. I breathed the smoke in, then blew it out with delightment, 

\- You did not answer my question.  
\- I’m sorry it’s just… I don’t know what to say.  
\- Say the truth.  
\- Ok. I think… I think I came here because I wanted to see you up close. Because I wanted to see what it felt like being... alone with you. Being observed by you. 

Her last words had came out in a sigh, almost inaudible. I turned around, but did not stand up, and I looked at her. I started from the bottom, all up to her face; black shoes, an inch of bare skin, then a dark and tight skirt with a white shirt tucked in, buttoned all the way up to her gracious neck, some old trench coat, reddish lips and cheeks; the colour of fresh blood; eyes like the depths of the ocean, hair burning like wildfire. I noticed all of this; again, I thought, since I had all memorized it just a few moments ago, when she stared at me from below. Two strangers meeting eyes in a crowd, feeling something irresistible, l’attrait de l’interdit, de l’inconnu; just like any other people. Only far more interesting. I took another draft from my cigarette, and gazed over through the smoke. 

\- Are you satisfied?  
\- I would like to be, but to tell you the truth I’m not. 

I shuddered again. Was she playing with me? Who was she, really? Just an innocent, succulent looking girl? Or something even I could not consider; a powerful might coming to take hold of me? But it did not really matter; any way around, I was playing my part willingly, eagerly, even. 

I stood up; our bodies were now only apart an inch, her hairs brushing my chest. I could feel her breath getting heavier. She bit her lip, and it made me want to tear her clothes apart and throw her on the wall once and for all. I took her chin and tilted it up. 

\- What do you want from me now? 

She looked in my eyes, and then down to my lips, and then up to my eyes again; asking for permission, it seemed. She was so sweet, chaste, almost; I liked it, but I was starting to feel impatient. “Don’t ask for it, just take it”, I thought. “Just take me.”

I let my cigarette slip through my fingers and fall on the floor; crushing it with my feet in a dry, brief but loud creak. I took her face in my hands, and pulled her closer. 

\- Is this what you want?  
\- Yes.

We were whispering. 

\- Then put your hands on my hips… tilt your head back a bit.  
\- Like that?  
\- Yes. Then put your lips apart, and close your eyes. 

She was obeying without hesitation. I waited a moment; I enjoyed her young, pure body so close to mine, her burning skin against my hands, her whole self boiling with lust and longing. It was not vanity, or foolish pride; more like a desire to freeze this moment in time, to keep it with me forever. To keep her with me forever. There was something going on here, she was different from the others and I knew it already, even though I had not admit it to myself. 

When I felt like she was about to open her eyes and see why this dream had ended so abruptly, I rushed on her lips, forcing my tongue in her mouth. I enjoyed its taste, and the fact that I was the first one enjoying it. A part of her would always be mine. In my own mind, at least, and somewhere deep in hers. 

She melted onto me, her surprisingly strong hands holding me still. I backed up a little; she stayed there with her mouth still wide open, eyes closed, head pulled back. 

\- Again. 

Her voice, like a murmur resonating in my head, like music. This could not wait any longer; I pushed her roughly towards the wall, pulling on her hips so she was sitting on the counter, her back pressed on the mirror where I could see our bodies intertwined, bringing a small smile to my lips. 

I grabbed her by the crotch and watched her gasp, feeling her hot breath on my face. I got closer but instead of kissing her I sticked my tongue out and let it wander around her mouth, without ever diving in. She let out a whine, which sounded like a plea; I almost begged her to do it again, so I could feel that rush in my veins. She wrapped her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck, as I buried my head in hers, urgently taking her coat off, slowly unbuttoning her shirt. One hand on her chest, keeping her still against the wall, the other slipping under her skirt; she moaned softly in my ear, arching her back and grabbing a handful of my hair. She had this way of surprising me; I could not help but moan back, letting go a bit of that power I had on her. She now knew she had it on me too. 

I looked up and her eyes were opened, staring at me again, and I dragged her face closer and we kissed again; I was not leading anymore, but neither was she. It was a kiss of tenderness; it was like she had figured me out, and did not want anything from me. She just wanted me, all of me, and I wanted her; maybe we were two ordinary people nevertheless, in this moment at least. I bit her ear and whispered. 

\- Follow me. 

I freed myself from her embrace, and took her hand. She did not object, and did as she was told, her shirt still unbuttoned. We walked quietly, filling the emptiness of the dark and narrow hallways, going down flights of stairs while I felt her breath on the back of my neck. Our steps echoed; they were the only sound breaking the silence. There was only us left; just me, her, a whole night to taste, tease, torture, possess each other.

I stopped abruptly when we reached our destination; a glossy red door, the entrance to one of the rooms I locked myself into, every night, another young beauty holding my hand each time. But none had never been as beautiful as this one. 

I opened the door, leading her inside and closing it back behind us. I got my key out, locked it and put it back in my pocket. I was expecting the usual questions, but she remained silent. 

\- Take your shirt off. And your skirt. Actually, take everything off. 

She obeyed, and when she was standing naked in front of me, her pale skin almost blinding, I walked up to her.

\- You know, you’re the first girl ever to go see me first. Usually, I go see them.  
\- Is it a good or a bad thing?  
\- I’m not sure… 

She was looking down, and I did not expect her too, but she started untying my dress; nervously, it seemed, and clumsily, but still. She looked up and whispered. 

\- I think it’s a good thing.  
\- And why is that?  
\- Because… I chose you. I’ve never done this before, you know.  
\- I know. 

She put her arms around me and I held her; it felt intimate, intrusive almost, but strangely right. 

\- Lay down. 

She did, on the gigantic canopy bed, covered in heavy, elegant fabric; velvet, silk, all in a dark red, almost purple tint, with gold thread laces holding it together. Looking me straight in the eyes, she spread her legs and bit her lower lip. Again, I had this urge to pin her down; take all of her, taste every part; suck on her bones and open her chest to see what was inside. But I contained myself. 

Instead I finished untying my dress and let it fall to the floor, and climbed on top of her, and bit her lip like she did just a few moments ago, but harder; I shuddered with pleasure to the taste of blood on my tongue; her blood, of which I would drink glasses like some old and fine wine, with the same delight. She laid back. 

\- Tell me what to do.  
\- No. 

She seemed confused for a second, as though she was considering the thought that all of this could stop before it had even begun. 

\- Tell me what you want… 

As much as I usually wanted those girls to be mine, now I wanted to be hers; she could dispose of me, play with me, forge me into what she desired. I had tried to make her feel sheltered, however in that moment I was the one who felt that way; warm under her wings. I was a little girl all over again; such a distant feeling coming back so vividly; and her my mother; and years after that night I would remind myself of this sensation, throwing my head back in ecstasy, and wonder why and how this was all possible. 

\- Ok. Then tell me how much you want me. 

She had this naughty smirk on her face; and was playing with a strand of my hair. I smiled back.

\- I long, I crave to taste every part of you. 

I stared into her eyes and let my hands enjoy the curves of her body. That power I had over her was long gone, but I did not really resent it. She was the one with power now. 

\- More.  
\- I want to take a bite out of your neck, and drink you, because I am so, so thirsty, and hungry, and aching, no, yearning to get inside of you. 

I raised an eyebrow and she let out a soft giggle. 

\- Is that enough for you?  
\- No… Tell me what you want to do to me. 

I grabbed her hips and rolled on the bed; she was now on top of me. I took one of her breasts in my mouth, still staring right in her eyes, and slowly pressed my teeth into it; she gasped again, let out a scrumptious moan and planted her nails in my shoulders. This was all making me dizzy; with lust, longing, some primitive instinct that had always took the form of a want, but had now mutated into a need. 

\- I want to eat you alive.  
\- Please.  
\- Oh sweetheart you don’t have to beg… 

I was on top again, my mouth going down on her until I reached her sweet spot; she grabbed the sheets when I did, and for a moment I wished she would seize me like that. Her whole body wrapped around me; my hair covering her stomach as hers spreaded on the bed; my eyes staying wide open as I observed every small movement of her face, every gasp, every shadow of a smile, every jolt that made her eyes shut tighter, her mouth open, and her fists clench. I took my time, enjoying the sound of her panting; every little noise she made was breaking something in me, some need to command, I did not have it anymore, at least with her, at least for tonight. 

After a while she let out a scream; I shivered when she did, and I swear I felt that same bolt of energy; it took me over and broke me in millions of pieces, that started flying across the room; my eyes, my heart, my hands; all of me scattered like ashes in the wind. 

“She must have seen it”, I thought. “She must have seen it too”. And at the moment this crossed my mind I realised my eyes were closed, and I opened them; she was holding me in her arms, my face buried in her chest. I put my arms around her waist and looked up to her; she was crying, tears running down her face and falling on mine. I laid small kisses on her cheeks, eyes, lips, trying to make them go away; without a word, in total silence, and still I felt like everything had been said. 

After a moment the waterfalls went dry; she hold me closer and we kissed again. I felt the salty taste of her tears in my mouth, and the bitterness of what I had to do next. It hit me; I would have to take all of this from her head, just like the other ones. “Maybe I could take her with me. Keep her. Stole her even.” Silly dreams, I knew it already then, but I held to those fantasies a little longer. 

We were now laying down on the bed, facing each other; merged like one being, my hand on her cheek. This all felt meant to be; a sacred union, or a damned reunion, I was not sure. 

I wanted to say something, anything; to try to make it better, to try to explain, to give some worthless apology she would not even remember. 

\- Darling. You know this was the only time, right? 

She did not seem shocked, but it was not indifference; on her face you could see she cared. 

\- Will you remember me?  
\- Always.  
\- Then there will be thousands of other times. 

She closed her eyes, and I thought of her dead, in my arms; out of breath, no blood rushing to her cheeks, her corpse so heavy I stayed fused to it. She would stay beautiful in the first days, then her flesh would rot; I saw her eyes empty, like two black holes spoiling her pretty face, worms eating up her white skin which was slowly turning to black, her lips purple, and cold. At least this way she would be mine forever. 

But her eyes were open again; she stared at me for a few last seconds, and I felt the burden of the world on my shoulders as she closed them back; I felt my heart actually breaking in two, the pain spreading in my chest, rushing to my fingers, blocking my throat as I accomplished this small, meaningful gesture. With a wave of my hand, she had forgotten all; and she would not ever notice, since she would simply wake up after a deep sleep, without any memory of me. Our words exchanged, her hands on me, my hands in her, our mouths rarely apart; all of this would be gone. Maybe she would wonder how she got here, but she would never suspect the truth. 

I gave one last stroke to her cheek, and gasped to this foreseen ache, as I wrenched myself from her arms. Parts of me wondering, and fighting: “Is it love I am leaving” Will I be punished for letting her go?” “No, this was not different then any of the other ones. Just another girl. More… talented than the others, maybe. But nothing more. Maybe.”

And the following month, when I saw her, or I should say felt her entering the room; when she stared at me on the stage, again; when I was left out of breath by her sole presence, and surrendered to that sensation; when I took her to some secret room, teared off her clothes and tasted her skin; when she tasted me, and made me scream in the silence of the night; when I held her against me, and took all of it out of her head again; when she came back one last time, to haunt me it seemed, but I resisted, not able to bear the thought of leaving her. Again. 

Then, I knew; it was not a revelation, nor a decision, but more of a sudden foresight of the obvious: she was mine. I was hers.


End file.
